HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY ANDREA MY LOOOOOVE3
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Prologue Part 1: Roxas

I loved my life. It was perfectly normal. It was great, too. I had a sweet, sincere, incredibly nice girlfriend, a well paying job, awesome friends, and a scholarship to one of the greatest schools in all the linked worlds. I had plenty of friends, some close and good to be around, and some… not so much. My brother even let me crash at his apartment for a few months while I had no place to stay, having just gone to Hollow Bastion for school.

He eventually forced me to go look for an apartment, not that I really minded. His boyfriend had moved in recently, and we all agreed that it would be incredibly awkward if I'd stayed with them. So I browsed the city for a few days, each day coming back empty handed. But my brother would just smile at me and tell me that it's no big deal, as long as I did find one.

It was a week before I could find one. But when I did, it was this great apartment. One of the walls—well, it wasn't a wall at all, I guess it was just a giant window, with this great view. In my opinion it was, anyway. Everyone that comes to visit just stares out the window, gawking at the 'giant pile of rubble.' Of course, I look at it as ruins of a giant castle that went down defiantly, and it would eventually make its way back up, once again looking radiant.

Luckily, my girlfriend had a different view of the crumbled castle than all these other people. She was one of those rare people that appreciated art, no matter what size, shape, or condition. Well, at least I think she liked it. Every time she came over, she would open the door and sit on the patio for hours and hours, just sitting there, till I practically dragged her inside. Maybe she just didn't like the interior design of the apartment… or needs fresh air after the five-hour plane ride from Twilight Town.

Twilight Town was my hometown. It was always sunny, and the sunsets were really beautiful, every single night. I would sit on the clock tower with my friends, usually in our group of four, staring at the sun glowing brightly, while we ate our sea-salt ice cream. It was our tradition. I would do anything to do that again… except maybe ditch school. I worked incredibly hard to get this scholarship.

Anyway, back to my story about the clock tower. Sometimes I would go with my old friend; we go way back. We went to the same preschool together, even though he was two years older than me. His mom was paranoid or something, and didn't want him to go too early. Bullies or something. Well, we pretty much grew up together. We lived four houses away from each other, and we went to the same elementary, middle, and high schools.

And then we were graduating from senior year. It seemed like the fastest twelve years I'd ever experienced. I wished I could freeze everything; maybe even go back in time. I didn't want to graduate, but at the same time, I felt like I really wanted to get out of Twilight Town. Even though I loved it, and still do, it started to feel like a dark hole that I couldn't get out of. Like I was trapped. Anyway, I wanted to freeze time. I would be going to Hollow Bastion, while all of my friends would be staying at TT.

And my best, best friend would be going all the way to Traverse Town. I was happy for him; I was happy for everyone that got into a decent college... or a college at all, but I didn't want my life to go away. Disappear. I was reluctant to get on the plane. He was there, along with my group of school friends, waving at me while I walked into the…Hall of Death. Or so he called it. As I handed the lady my ticket, I almost yanked it away and ran back to them, screaming at them, wondering why they would let me go, just like that.

But I didn't. Although I was in business class on the plane, I felt like I was in agony. I wondered when I was going to see them again, if they would still be the same people when I did see them. What if they threw it away? It was the first trophy I'd ever won. There were thousands of questions scrambling around my head, till one of the flight attendants came over sounding awfully worried. She gave me a sleeping pill and a large glass of juice, which I swallowed quickly. Eventually sleep overcame me, but I fidgeted in my sleep; the man next to me even asked if he could switch seats with someone.

I didn't hear from them often, but when I did, our conversations would be brief and soon the conversations started to become awkward. Eventually we grew farther and farther apart, and I received less and less phone calls. When I called them, it would be awkward and quiet, and the only thing to ask was how classes were. In the end, the calls stopped altogether, and I was fine with it. I had made some new friends here at Hollow Bastion, too, but I knew they would never be as close as my old friends once were. They could never replace them.

…I never heard from him though. I didn't even hear from his family, the paranoid, over protective family. The one time I tried to call, an old man picked up. He sounded incredibly angry, probably because of the time difference, and when I asked about the family that used to live there, he said they cleared up more than four months ago. Even though I had this information, I didn't understand why they wouldn't call me. Inform me of things that were… going on? Happening? It was incredibly upsetting, but I wouldn't let it get in the way of my studies and I later on accepted it. Forgive and forget, right? And that's just what I did.

I forgot. I don't remember his face anymore. I don't remember why we were friends. I don't even remember his name. I didn't mean to close off that part of my mind completely. I wish I could remember. I wish I hadn't stepped on the plane. I wish I could have spent more time with him when I could. All my memories of him are hazy; we would hang out together. I would see him in these memories, but his face would be blurred out. There were smudges of brown, black and white. Surrounding him. Swallowing him up. Erasing him from my life completely. As much as I tried, I could never make out his face. Even in my dreams, I would see the large blob of colors. We would be talking and laughing, but I only heard my voice. My laughter. Me. He was gone.

I don't remember him at all, but it was always like there was this empty pit in my heart that would ache, subsiding only when I slept. It was painful, but I learned to ignore it, distracting myself with my new friends, girlfriend, family, school... you name it. Eventually the pit disappeared, the pit was filled, and I was able to live normally. I felt like the happiest person alive, again having that perfect life. Perfect girlfriend. Perfect house, friends…perfect everything.

And then my girlfriend visited. One night while we were hanging out, we were having fun, acting completely carefree. I wish I could get that relaxed, happy feeling back. I wish I'd never opened my dumb mouth. But I did. It was unstoppable. I don't know how it happened. I was on top of her panting body, and then I said it. I said someone else's name. I said a boy's name. I said something that would change my life forever.

Her beautiful blue eyes shot open; she slapped me in the face nice and hard and ran out of the room calling me a heartless bastard. But of course she was still there in the morning, she had four more days before her flight back to Twilight Town. She was sitting out on the porch, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the workers chipping away at piles of cracked rock fallen from the castle. I knew she didn't want to talk to me, she just wanted out.

Her eyes were red on the rims, and she occasionally sniffled and made quiet whimpering noises. But when I walked onto the patio and took the seat next to her, she gulped, her gaze held on the workers never wavered. Then she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, looking as though she was about to start crying again. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, so I just stared at her like the dumb ass I was. Then she sighed.

She asked me who he was. I told her I honestly didn't know. I was ready to get down on my knees and beg for her to believe me. But she just sighed again, apparently too tired to disagree. It was silent for a few more minutes; I took the time to try and figure out who this guy was. I wanted him out. Out of my head and out of my life. I gathered her in my arms, rocking back and forth slightly while she cried silently into my shirt. Then she told me that she loved me.

I couldn't say it back.

I hate my life.

Prologue Part 2: Axel

I hated my life. It was messed up. I had shitty over-protective parents; I lived in a fucking shack. The closest thing I've had to a girlfriend was my best friend. And he wasn't even single. He was going out with this girl for like thirty years, and I was just about ready to kick her into a hole, yelling at her to go die an a hole. Yeah, I had friends beside him, but he was the only one I could… you know, talk with. He was different. Don't ask me why I think so. I'll just tell you to fuck off, I don't fucking know.

I always bullied him, but of course, that's just brotherly love. I would give him noogies every chance I got, but act like the best kid in the world when we were around his parents and friends and such. I started bullying him in preschool, when we first got around to being friends. It's actually a very strange story. It was kind of random, not like one of those stories that you would see as everyday children's books.

At the preschool, all the kids were those stuck up and rich. I was the only one that was only decent. The only one that wore jeans and basketball shorts instead of khakis. I was also taller than all of them, noticeable from any angle or distance. I really hated that school. Every single day, I would sit alone at the art table, drawing stick figures with pale brown pants, then stab them with red on the tip of the paint brush.

My paintings were never put on the fridge, which disappointed me beyond belief. The counselor, or whatever, would look over my shoulder and watch as I painted. Then I would pick up the big brush. She would open and close her mouth for a while and make weird hand movements before she would give up and just yank it right out of my hands, asking if I would rather paint something like flowers, or even hang out with the other kids. I just glared at her, narrowing my eyes into little slits, reaching up for the paintbrush, my fists opening and closing like the baby I was. She would sigh and reluctantly had it to me, and I would resume my beautiful work.

Yeah, I enjoyed preschool. And then he came. He stood next to me, holding hands with a little girl that was practically hiding behind him. She was probably scared of me because of how many times the counselor would have to talk to me. But everyone there thought I was scary. The boy smiled at me and asked if he could paint with me. I stared at him for a second, his smile never wavering. Then I gazed back down at my painting, an arrow pointing at the pants saying, 'kackeez.' I looked back at him, then at the girl, and told him if he wanted to play with me the girl had to go away. They had cooties.

He looked kind of shocked at first, but then just told her to go play with the dolls or something like that. I folded the paper of the boy with khakis, and recycled it quickly. I could practically hear the counselor's relief. After that, I stopped painting boys with khakis. I painted girls with flowery dresses. Not much of an improvement, but it was better than nothing, right?

Then once the day was over and his parents came to pick him up, he was holding my hand. Not that snobby little girl's hand. I knew the girl was behind us crying though. Ha, ha, ha, rejected, bitch. Anyway, he introduced me to his parents. They were nice enough. When his parents tried to drag him into the car, he said he wouldn't leave until my mommy and daddy got there.

Since then we were practically biffles. If you haven't heard that before, you're a dumb ass. Mom and Dad later found out that it was just a walking distance from my house to his, even though mine was much less... big. And from then on we hung out almost every day after school, playing video games, doing 'homework,' and even prank calling. We were some rebellious little fifth graders. But that amazing tirade of evil was soon over in middle school.

Only a few weeks, or months or something, into sixth grade, he got his first girlfriend. It was that girl I said had cooties way back in preschool. It was annoying sometimes, when we were hanging out and prank calling, she would tell us that 'that's not the right thing to do boys,' and smack the phone back into the receiver. It really pissed me off, and even though he tried not to show it, it really pissed him off too.

Eventually he was able to get his girlfriend out of his life—not completely, just when he was with me, though I would prefer all the way out—and we went back to doing the loser-ish things we did. I could tell that I was first priority, I was a… higher rank, I guess you could say, than that bitch. I was practically high with giddiness when she was gone.

But then high school came, and he was still with her. Even though I didn't exactly disapprove of her or hate her, I didn't want her constantly watching over him. She was like a creepy stalker, only the good kind (if that makes sense). Anyway, after the SATs came, I started getting tons and tons of mail from tons and tons of colleges, having earned one of the top scores, as did he.

I was still upset though, because I didn't get anything from my dream college. Neither did he. So as the senior year began to come to a close, and as we all started signing up for colleges, I got several acceptances; almost ten, and three of them were scholarships. I felt incredibly old though. I was 20 while everyone else was 18.

And then one day, I got this giant envelope. It was plain white, except for my address. It was kind of scary, but I was pretty sure I knew what it was. I held it up to the light first, hoping it wasn't college money. Even though that would have been a pretty good thing too. So I opened it, and started grinning like a mad man when I saw the small blue symbol at the top left corner.

The words 'Congratulations! You've been accepted into Traverse Town University, scholarship included!' screamed at me loudly in the face. I whooped and cheered, and the first thing I did was run over to his house. About thirty seconds in, I saw him running towards me, waving a stack of papers over his head. We stopped in front of each other, grinning and panting wildly, leaning on each other for support.

We exchanged papers, and my smile quickly turned to a deep frown. He was going to his dream school, I was going to mine. They were practically on the opposite sides of the… universe, I guess. I looked at him, and his expression just about mirrored mine. His face spazzed for a second, then he took his papers back and dragged me to his house. We decided to book our flights early, so we could get seats we wanted and the times that we wanted. Key word: Times. This way I could be with him while he got his… stuff done and waited for the flight. Then I could just walk to my section in the building and go straight to my plane. Easy as pie, right? Not really. We spent two hours looking for those tickets, most of them not on sale yet.

So we spent this awesome summer together (wow that sounds really cliché), going to the clock tower every other night to watch the sunset (wow that sounds even more cliché), and tried to make the most of it before we would leave and never see each other again!

But you see, well, there is a little twist on this beautiful little story. There was no happy ending. Not even a decently happy ending. It was depressing, and I truly hated my life. I waved goodbye to him at the airport, and I could tell he was debating whether to really give the ticket to the girl letting them in the plane. I glared at him till he turned around and walked inside. I sighed and patted his friends on the back, saying a quick and chipper goodbye.

I then left and got on my plane, deciding to make the most of the eight hour plane ride by sleeping. My parents had already found an apartment for me at Traverse Town; I had lived in this strangely colored room with this girl named Yuffie for a while. I guess she was cool, until she pushed me into the street telling me to go and talk to that 'hottie across the street.'

Of course, I just happened to get hit by a car. I was in the hospital for almost four weeks, then I was able to go to school for like two, then I tripped on the stairs and hit one of my more sensitive, not-as-healed scars on the artery on my neck, and I totally started bleeding profusely. I didn't even bother calling for help. I knew it was the end, and I definitely wasn't scared of it. Someone found my lifeless body laying on the staircase, and I just watched from my perch at the top of the staircase. I guess I was just too bad for heaven and too good for hell. But yes, I had become a ghost.

At first, I absolutely hated it. No one could see me, I couldn't do anything social, no one could feel me, I couldn't feel anyone... and most of all, I couldn't talk to him. He probably doesn't even know I'm dead. I don't think anyone knows I'm dead... except for maybe Yuffie. So I went to find him, and pulled the evilest little prank in the world. At first I was just experimenting going in and out of his body. He was still able to think and do things like he normally would without any odd side affects.

And then she came over. The she that I despised with a passion. The she that could visit him every month because her parents are fucking rich bastards. The she that he rejected for me. But that was from way back in preschool, but I was still going to get her back for it.

It was sort of just watching them make out for a while, but then they started to get a little too comfy in my opinion, and I decided to jump right in. It felt a little weird at first, since, you know, she's not my girlfriend, but I was supposed to act totally turned on and shit because I was taking over his whole being… if that's how you want to put it. I had to keep myself from laughing.

And then I said it. I said my name. And she slapped us, she slapped us very hard, and I don't think he realized anything. I don't think he even remembers anything. But I can make him remember. I have the advantage. Fuck yeah.

I love my life...well, death.

LOVE ME, HATE ME, BUT CAN YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?
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